


I Bet You Can't

by ali_aliska



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A Study in Seducing Your Own Boyfriend, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gratuitous Descriptions of Biceps and Butts, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mature Sexual Content, Misuse of Chocolate Batter, That's it, Tony Wearing Bucky's Clothes, Tony and Bucky Thirsting After Each Other, Tony's Metal Arm Kink, that's the whole fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 02:04:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19984258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ali_aliska/pseuds/ali_aliska
Summary: Tony and Bucky are in love and that's nice, but the rest of the Avengers are sick of seeing them smooch and snuggle at the breakfast table (and everywhere else, at all times).Cue Clint and Sam roping them into a bet—the first of the pair to touch the other loses—and now there's a month of coffee and sweets on the line, not to mention professional pride of self-proclaimed playboys and charmers, so Tony and Bucky are determined to get the other to break first.It goes about as well as one would expect.[2019 Winteriron Week, Day 5 -Prosthetic Armsand 2019 Tony Stark Bingo, K5 -Wearing Each Other's Clothes]





	I Bet You Can't

**Author's Note:**

> Winteriron Week Day 5!
> 
> Out of the entire week, this one was the most fun to write (mostly _because_ this whole fic is a ridiculous disaster), so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Like most bad ideas, this one started with Clint—and like most of _Clint’s_ bad ideas, this one started with an off-handed comment.

Natasha sank her teeth into the melted cheesy goodness—pizza for breakfast, because it was _that_ kind of week for them—and watched as Steve turned progressively more flustered by the sight before him. Or was he just frustrated? It was hard to tell sometimes, but Natasha did make a mental note to set him up on another date. Maybe the cute guy from the coffee shop down the street, but that was a project for another time.

Right now, she observed the twitch of Steve’s jaw, that little teeth clench he did each time Tony and Bucky kissed—or nuzzled or cuddled or engaged in some other saccharine display of affection.

Natasha looked over at the couple. Bucky was feeding Tony his slice of pizza now and Tony was humming around the bite of cheese and sausage like it was manna from heaven, looking even more pleased when Bucky planted what had to be a greasy pizza kiss on his cheek.

Yeah, okay, Natasha had to concede the point, it was a little over the top, but they were dumb and in love and it was _cute._ The rest of the table didn’t seem to agree though and was growing progressively more tired of the display.

Cap broke first.

“Could— could you two not do that?” He put his own slice down, going for his stern Captain America visage, but he should’ve known these two would be immune and as expected, Tony and Bucky flashed him two identical, faux-innocent looks.

“What are you talking about, Cap?”

“Yeah, Stevie, we’re just eating.”

Steve’s jaw twitched again. “Can you eat without all the, uh, the touching and the kissing?”

Tony and Bucky glanced at each other, cocked opposite brows, and looked back at Steve with matching grins (they really _were_ perfect for each other and the hopeless romantic in Natasha rejoiced).

“No can do, Cap, have you seen this guy? It’s criminal not to touch him at all times, and besides, this is pretty tame. We could do worse.”

“It’s true, we definitely could.”

“Don’t act like they didn’t have kissing back in the thirties, Capsicle.”

“Because they did, Stevie, I was there, doing most of it.”

Steve closed his eyes, took a deep breath, let it out through his nose, and probably wished for an icy ocean or two. “I’m not a prude, no matter how much you both tease me, but it’s hard to engage in meaningful conversation when you two are constantly in your own little world, with all the touching and the kissing and the—”

“Oh give it up, Cap,” Clint piped up. “These two are hopeless. They’re needy and touchy-feely and asking them to stop touching is like asking a dog to stop sniffing.”

Tony shrugged. “He’s not wrong.”

Clint popped a slice of pepperoni into his mouth. “Yup, I bet these two can’t even go an hour without pawing at each other.”

“Also accurate.” Tony grinned and shoved Bucky playfully, their attention back on each other, which meant they missed the glint in Clint’s eye.

“Here’s what I’m wondering though.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Which one is the _needier_ one? Because I’m betting it’s Tony. If he’s not being fawned over and pampered at all times, he’ll just melt into a puddle of pitifulness.”

Too busy glaring at Clint, they also missed Sam’s matching glint of mischief behind them where he stood with another box of pizza.

“Clint, I see your point, man, and I respect it—your first-hand expertise in dumbasses must be impressive—but listen, you’re dead wrong.” Sam pointed to Bucky’s head. “This one right there would break first. No contest. He can’t even _think_ when Stark’s in the room. One glance at that admittedly nice ass and he’s panting away. Stark has way more self-control than that. Well, comparatively. It’s a sliding scale.”

Bucky threw a glare over his shoulder. “Eat a dick, Wilson.”

“Good god, man, where’d you learn your insults? Middle school?”

“He is kinda right, babe.”

Tony shrugged apologetically when Bucky huffed in indignant surprise and pouted.

“About the insults?”

“No—well, okay, a little, we do need to work on that, but I meant about the breaking first thing. It’s nothing personal, but Sam’s right! The power of my ass knows no equal! Plus, I wasn’t seeing anyone the entire time between you and Pepper and that was close to—”

“To what, seventy _years_?”

Everyone winced.

“Jesus, Barnes, way to bring down the mood.” Sam cuffed him over the head. “Keep your traumatic backstories confined to your therapy sessions.”

“I’m not crying over it, I’m just stating a fact!”

“You weren’t even awake for most of that.” Tony huffed. “I had to live out every day with just me and my hand!”

“Well, I’m sorry I had no one but Hydra for company!”

They both heaved a breath, stared each other, and it was Tony’s face that crumpled first.

“God, babe, that’s so sad, I’m so sorry, c’mere.” He pulled Bucky in for a kiss and Buck dove in eagerly.

Poor Steve, on the other hand, was rapidly losing his will to live. “Seriously, you two?”

Sam sighed. “This is pathetic.”

“Mm-hmm,” Clint agreed. “This is _exactly_ what I was talking about. Didn’t even last a minute. Oh, and by the way, I was right. Tony totally broke first!”

Bucky broke the kiss to snicker. “Hear that, babe? You _totally_ broke first.”

“Hey, no,” Tony shoved him back, but even that was playful. “That didn’t count! If I was actually trying, I would last longer without touching you and you know it!”

“Would not!”

“Would too!”

“Oh my god,” Steve muttered into his hands, defeated, “this got so much worse.”

“How about an actual bet? We can settle this once and for all,” Clint offered, goading them on, reeling them in, _in broad daylight_. Honestly, this was embarrassing and Natasha should’ve said something, but that would’ve ruined all her fun. She took another bite of pizza instead.

“What do you mean, a bet?” Tony seemed intrigued.

“Let’s see which one of you lasts longer without touching the other,” Sam picked up where Clint left off. “We could even make it interesting. Whoever wins gets a prize.”

“No, no, no,” Clint jumped back in, “whoever _loses_ gets a punishment.”

Tony huffed. “What could you possibly do to me that would—”

“No drinking coffee. For a month.”

Tony stared at Clint with dawning horror. “You take that back.”

“Aw, I thought you were confident about winning this, Tony.”

Tony sputtered, but didn’t manage to find a comeback in time and his indignant frown transformed into a pout. Next to him, Bucky rolled his eyes.

“You do know I was tortured for seventy years, right? There is nothing—”

“One month, no eating sweets. No cupcakes, no candy, nothing.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped. “Stevie, I thought you were my friend!”

“I am, Buck, but this is for the best. It’ll be good for you two to take a break from each other. Or, you know, practice some self-restraint.”

“Mm-hmm. How does that saying go?” Sam was having the time of his life. “‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder?’”

Tony was, predictably, still pouting. “We’re not seriously considering this, are we?”

“Aw, Tony, it’s okay, no one’s gonna judge you if you’re a sore _loo_ - _ooser_ ,” Clint sing-songed like a five-year-old, still goading them into this and there they went, falling right for it.

There were some days Natasha was stuck babysitting the three collective brain cells shared by the Avengers and the determined look that crossed Tony’s face was proof enough that today was one of those days.

“Bring. It. On. Birdbrain,” Tony declared and with patented Stark flair, he scooted away from Bucky only to throw him a wicked smirk. “Sorry, Bucky Buckaroo. Life’s about to get a lot less sweet for you.”

“Oh, you will be sorry, doll, when you _lose_. Better borrow Banner’s tea kettle because you’re gonna need it.”

“Please,” Tony rolled his eyes and pressed his hand into his chest, “I am irresistible. This is going to be a piece of cake—a piece only _I_ will get to enjoy.”

They both huffed and squinted at each other—Natasha wondered if those were meant to be menacing glares of intimidation, but when two people were this ridiculously in love, that sort of thing just came off as indulgent looks of affection at best.

She grabbed another slice of pizza, kicked back in her seat, plopped her feet in Clint’s lap, and tried to map out the best vantage points around the Tower to enjoy the show.

* * *

Tony hummed to himself, dancing a little as he stirred the liquids into the dry ingredients. He discovered he liked baking a while ago, something about the precise details of it appealing, and it didn’t hurt that everyone loved the days he broke out the apron. Bucky wasn’t the only sweet tooth around here.

Tony turned back to the tablet, checked what else the batter needed, and kept working.

Baking was also an opportunity to relax, but today he couldn’t help but think back to that silly bet they made at breakfast.

Precious coffee and sweets on the line, with the bet to be put on hold if the Avengers were called into action, and JARVIS, their all seeing-eye in the sky, chosen as the ultimate arbiter.

One would think Tony could bribe his own creation into letting him win, but no such luck. J took fairness and sportsmanship far too seriously, so Tony just had to hope the team would get distracted with something new and shiny soon and forget all about this.

Hell, if these cupcakes came out well enough, Tony could just bribe the team into dropping the bet. J may have had an iron will, but the Avengers were weak for Tony’s chocolate ganache.

At the sound of footsteps, Tony looked over his shoulder and spotted his boyfriend.

“Well, hello there, gorgeous.”

“Darlin’,” Bucky drawled and sauntered over, but didn’t give Tony his usual kiss ‘hello’. Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If Bucky really wanted to play, that was fine. Tony would _so_ win.

Bucky did make for such a pretty sight though, wearing a beautiful, blue shirt Tony had bought him a few weeks ago; the material stretched over those muscles like a dream, accentuating the buff arms crossed over a muscular chest, and Bucky’s eyes practically sparkled, the blue of the shirt making their steel-gray pop. Those plump lips stretched into a smile and Tony wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss them and—

No, he had to be strong. Resist the temptation.

Bucky propped a hip against the counter and tilted his head, eyeing the batter as he hummed appreciatively. “Chocolate? Mmm, you’re so good to me.”

“Damn straight I am. I’m making the ganache too and a buttercream frosting and— hey, hey, no, no fingers in the batte-te- _aaaw_ , _hell_ …”

Bucky stuck the whole batter-covered finger right into his mouth, moaned like he was paid to do it, and closed his eyes in an image of ecstasy so divine it could only be achieved in the bedroom.

Tony’s blood promptly plummeted south and there was a good chance he forgot how to breathe.

Bucky pulled the finger back out with an obscene pop.

“This is _so_ _good_.” He continued, licking a broad swipe to get the rest, lavishing his finger with generous licks. “Tastes almost as good as you do, sugar.”

Tony whimpered and Bucky’s eyes flicked to him and _glinted_ —

Oh, that damn, sly bastard.

“I know what you’re doing,” Tony rasped, going for accusatory and landing somewhere on the wrong side of turned on.

Bucky gave his finger another generous lick while keeping direct eye contact with Tony. “Not doing a thing, baby doll. Just had to get myself a taste.” Wiggling his still-clean metal hand, he went and dipped another finger into the batter and Tony was too— _turned-on, needy, stupid in love_ —no, _offended_ by the utter gall to protest about fingers in cake batter again.

Instead of licking it off however, Bucky offered the batter to _Tony_. “And I know you want a taste too.”

The rest of Tony’s higher brain functions promptly fizzed out.

Chocolate batter. On Bucky’s perfect metal fingers, which Tony had licked and lavished and worshiped on so many different occasions—because his metal arm kink was a badly-kept secret and Tony could barely control himself around this arm when they were doing routine _maintenance_ , but like this, with Bucky offering himself to Tony to lick and suck and taste—and now the batter was _dripping_ , coating those gorgeous metal fingers and Tony knew, intimately, the slide of them over his tongue, the weight of them—

“That’s right, sweetheart, just come here.”

Tony leaned closer and opened his mouth to—

The oven’s pre-heat timer went off with a shrill _beep_ and Tony jumped a foot in the air before scrambling back and grabbing the nearest weapon—a spatula—to brandish at his boyfriend.

“I’ve killed men with less, James Buchanan Barnes, don’t you test me!”

The seductive act fell away and Bucky rolled his stupid, gorgeous eyes before popping the metal fingers into his mouth to get rid of the batter with far less fanfare.

“You’re no fun.”

“And you are a cheater!”

“It ain’t cheating to be the sexiest thing in this building, darlin’.”

“Aw, that’s sweet of you to say, babe, I _am_ the sexiest thing in this building.”

Bucky gave Tony a thorough once-over and shrugged. “Alright, I can’t argue with that, but I will win, Tony.”

“Like hell.”

“You’ll see.”

With a purposeful sway of his hips, Bucky headed out and Tony shouted at his boyfriend’s retreating back, “I hope you get dried chocolate batter stuck in your metal plates, you menace!”

Oh, who was he kidding? He wouldn’t. Tony the one who made that damn arm self-cleaning.

He heard Bucky shout down the hall, “Aw, I love you too, baby doll!”

Tony scrunched up his face, but still yelled back, “Love you most!”

Because he _did_ , even if his boyfriend wasn’t getting a single cupcake tonight—or for the next _month_.

Bucky should’ve remembered who he was dealing with here. Genius, billionaire, _playboy_ , philanthropist.

* * *

“Hey, Tony, Nat said you needed help with some-thi- _ooh_ , g-good god.”

Bucky didn’t get far through the entrance of the basement, freezing mid-step. This was bad, this was so bad, this was clearly revenge, _keep it together, Barnes_ —

Bucky whimpered.

Tony was pouring molten metal into the crucible, biceps bulging, sweat glistening on each inch of skin, and clinging to him in the most heart-stopping way to accentuate every dip and curve, was a black tank top.

Tony was always gorgeous, but even more so like this, when Bucky had the privilege to see him work. There was a magnetism to this, something raw and primal to this showcase of skin and muscle and red-hot glow of the molten metal reflected in the sheen of sweat.

Bucky swallowed against his dry throat and ordered himself to walk away—

Tony hooked the bottom of the tank top over his hand and pulled it up to wipe the sweat from his brow and Bucky almost _died_ because there was that beautiful, taut belly that he loved so much and his hand twitched to reach out and _touch._ He couldn’t see them, but he knew if he placed his palm over that perfect skin, he’d feel Tony’s glorious, steel-cut abs.

Bucky’s body may have been carved by super serums and Hydra, but Tony’s body had been carved by the gods.

Tony looked over and finally spotted Bucky.

“Oh. Hi, babe.”

Bucky held back another whimper. “You— you needed me for something?”

In lieu of an answer, Tony stretched his arms up—oh no, _biceps_ —and let them rest behind his head.

“Nah, sorry, false alarm, I got it figured out. Well, unless you wanna come help me with something else.” He wiggled both his brows and his body suggestively and Bucky’s own, traitorous body responded in kind.

 _It’s a trap, it’s a trap, it’s a trap_ —

“I think Steve’s calling me, bye!” Bucky bellowed— _bellowed_ , not squeaked like a terrified mouse—and dashed out of the basement as fast as his super soldier legs could carry him. He didn’t stop until he was far enough away to resist Tony’s charm, which basically meant he had to dash through the entire Tower.

With Tony far enough away though, it was easier to think and his competitive pride roared right back to full strength.

Oh, Tony was good, Bucky had to give him that, but of course he was good, he was Bucky’s boyfriend. He was the _best_. And really, that was amateur hour, falling for that. They were both proud, competitive, and sexy as sin, of course Tony would retaliate, but even though Tony may have been god’s gift to mankind—and to Bucky, who still didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky—and even though he loved that man, would kill for him, would _live_ for him, Tony was going _down_.

* * *

Tony got a text from Nat asking him to spar and because he had ample pent-up energy, he decided he might as well get a work-out out of it. Natasha was a much better sparring partner than Steve or Bucky anyways, neither of whom could hold back their strength when they got going and Tony did _not_ like getting bruised like a peach. Not at the gym, anyways.

He headed to the gym, a pep in his step as he remembered Bucky’s slack-jawed expression from earlier. Tony may have ignored every safety requirement _ever_ by handling molten metal in a tank top, but boy, was it worth it. Served Bucky right for sticking his fingers in Tony’s chocolate batter and being so damn sexy!

Tony just needed to work up another sweat—another great reason to spar—go find Bucky again, and wiggle what god gave him until Bucky broke.

“Hey, Nat,” he said as he opened the door, “can we work on my kicks today, I’ve been having trouble with my le _-eeeft_ —oh god.”

“Oh, hey, Tony!” Nat chirped from her perch, on _Bucky’s back_. As he was doing one armed push-ups. With the flesh arm.

“I, uh, I was just—” Tony tried to remember how English worked, how _conversations_ worked, but hell, who was he kidding? He wasn’t even looking at Natasha anymore.

Bucky had him in a trance. The effortless way he raised himself up and down—but no, no, it _wasn’t_ effortless and maybe that was the real appeal of it, the sweat Tony could see slicking Bucky’s hair, the low grunts of exertion.

Tony imagined himself perched on Bucky’s back instead of Natasha, counting out the push-ups, cheering Bucky on. Oh, the planes of that gorgeous back would be the perfect place to—

No, wait, the perfect place for him would be _underneath_ Bucky so that each time Bucky lowered himself, Tony would get to feel the press of that body, reward Bucky for his hard work with a kiss—

No, _wait_.

With a Herculean effort, Tony dragged his eyes away from his boyfriend and back to Natasha, whose innocent look was anything _but_ innocent.

“What’s wrong, Tony?”

“N-nothing. I’m fine.” He did _not_ squeak, Stark men did not squeak nor did they _eep_ nor make any other noise reserved for tiny woodland creatures—but just in case, he’d have to ask JARVIS to erase this footage later.

From the cameras on Tony, anyways. The rest needed to be preserved for posterity. Bucky was a historical artifact, after all.

“Bucky, I think something’s wrong with your boyfriend,” Natasha said—probably because Tony kept standing there and staring instead of talking or breathing or _thinking_ like a normal person.

She hopped off, smacking Bucky’s shoulder as she went up, and Bucky jumped to his feet as well, giving himself a good stretch—Tony did _not_ whine either—before throwing Natasha a cocky grin.

“Ain’t a damn thing wrong with my boyfriend, Nat.” Those eyes turned to Tony and apparently Tony’s dick had no self-respect when a mere _look_ had it going. Bucky grabbed a towel to wipe away the sweat, but his eyes never strayed. “Isn’t that right, baby doll? You’re perfect just the way you are, aren’t ya?”

“Um… Maybe?”

Really, Tony should’ve been offended on his own behalf, but give him a break, Bucky was now murder strutting right for him, all six feet of glistening Adonis—

“I, uh, I have—a meeting! With Steve! And I’m late! Bye!”

Tony whipped around and ran out of the gym, his disgraceful exit followed by Bucky’s disappointed huff and Natasha choking on water as she laughed.

* * *

Steve got the shock of his life when Tony actually showed up for their scheduled meeting.

He did not, however, appreciate Tony spending the entire hour ranting about Bucky’s _perfectly lickable_ biceps.

* * *

Unfortunately their bet couldn’t get in the way of actual work, but it didn’t mean Bucky couldn’t volunteer to take a tablet loaded with some contract or another to his boyfriend’s office (Bucky conveniently pretended to forget that these things could simply be sent via email now, but in his defense, he was _very, very_ _old_ ).

Steve was onto Bucky’s ‘technological amnesia’, unfortunately, but Bucky was onto _him_ , the damn punk. Steve just wanted Bucky to break first because he was too much of a softie when it came to Tony. The moment a sleepy, sad Tony turned those doe eyes on Steve and lamented in that soft, trembly voice how a cup of coffee was the _one_ thing he had to look forward to all day, what with his endless list of responsibilities and the stress and the nightmares—

And dammit, now _Bucky_ wanted to pamper his boyfriend too. He could bundle Tony up in a soft blanket tonight, feed him a proper meal, spoil him with something sweet, and snuggle him until the nightmares were all gone, he could—

He could do _none_ of those things tonight.

Huh.

That thought settled a little too sharply in his chest and he had to resist the urge to rub the physical sting away.

He _could_ murder Clint and Sam for this damn bet, he supposed, that was another great way to spend the night, but he placed that idea on hold when he came upon Tony’s office. He picked up on several voices, mostly Tony’s and—

And he stopped short for the second time that day, to promptly lose all ability to think of murder.

Tony had his back to Bucky and was leaning over the glass desk that displayed his holograms, propped up on his elbows, babbling his usual tech-talk as he explained something to a group of interns that gathered around him.

Tony’s voice sank into Bucky like sweet honey, deep and soulful, but Bucky’s eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from that perfectly round, bounce-a-damn-quarter-off-it ass that slowly swiveled back and forth as Tony swayed his body subconsciously in time with his words.

Bucky’s hands knew the weight of that ass like they knew the weight of his guns. He swallowed, tried to breathe through his nose, tried to recall some inkling of training—military, Hydra, Avengers, anyone, he didn’t care—but he was powerless.

Tony’s intellect and his enthusiasm had been Bucky’s bright light since the beginning. Tony had been the future personified—and now hopefully _Bucky’s_ future—and every time Bucky had the privilege of seeing Tony like this, immersed in his work, creating something amazing, teaching and leading the next generation, he fell in love with Tony just a bit more.

And Tony’s _ass_? Well, that national treasure deserved sonnets and devout worshippers and—

Someone walked by, wrenching Bucky back to reality—and dammit, now he was horny _and_ angry, so he stomped into the room, ignored the startled interns and the glint in Tony’s eyes, dropped the tablet on the desk, and marched right back out.

He turned around just beyond the threshold to jab a finger in their direction. “If I die because of this, I’m taking you all with me!” he declared with an appropriate level of menace and stomped back to the elevator.

Oh, Clint and Sam were _definitely_ meeting their maker.

* * *

“Mr. Stark, are we going to get murmured by the Winter Soldier?”

“No, he’s just being dramatic.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. We’re just… working on some things.”

* * *

Bucky stopped stomping three cubicles down because the finance staff deserved better than a Winter Soldier on a war path through their department and he backtracked when he passed Miss Blackwood’s office. She looked up from her computer when she spotted him at her door.

“Hello, Mister Barnes! Can I help you today?”

“Uh… Is that a puppy?”

She grinned and looked over at the crate sitting in the corner. “I sure hope so, otherwise this is going to get awkward real fast.”

Bucky took a hesitant step inside. “Can I pet it?”

“Of course. He loves pets.” She swiveled her chair to face the puppy, but made no move to get up, so Bucky took that as permission to reach in and brush his hand over the little guy. 

“Aw, he’s so fluffy—and _tiny_ , how is he so tiny?”

“Yeah, Pomeranians are pretty cute, aren’t they? He’s only a few months old, which means in addition to being cute, he’s also a handful. Usually my roommate watches him—he works from home, writing some novel about star-crossed lovers, you know how it goes—but he had to be out all day, so here I am, sneaking a puppy into work. Well, ‘sneaking’.” She curled her fingers around the word when Bucky looked up. “Boss lady knows, she’s just looking the other way.”

“Well, Tony’s the one who owns the Tower and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. God knows he can’t resist a cute face—and you’re just adorable, aren’t you? The sweetest thing in the world, yes, you are.”

The little puppy seemed to agree and playfully nipped at Bucky’s finger with his tiny needle teeth, falling over in his attempt to climb his arm.

“You’d know, wouldn’t you? Dr. Stark does seem like a dog person.”

The Winter Soldier cooing at her dog didn’t seem to faze Alice at all, who sat there with an indulgent smile, watching him.

“Can I hold him?”

“Sure. Heck, take him out to play if you want. Walk around with him, let him see the sights. I might actually get some work done without that distracting, little thing.”

Bucky didn’t need any further convincing to gently scoop the tiny fluff ball and cradle the puppy against his chest.

“Aw, don’t you two make the cutest sight? Ooh, if Dr. Stark is around, you should let him see you. His boyfriend _and_ a puppy? I bet that would make his day.”

The gears in Bucky’s head began to turn and he flashed Alice a cocky grin. “I think you’re absolutely right.”

* * *

“Doll, you really gotta close your office door, I’m not sure I like you wiggling that gorgeous ass where everyone can see it.”

Tony scoffed, but didn’t turn around at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice. “Please, you absolutely _did_ like it. Oh, and by the way, the interns all think you’re out to get them now.”

“Eh, it’s good for them. Builds character.”

Tony discarded a few pieces of the hologram hovering in front of him. “I don’t think this is what we meant when we told them they’d have to deal with ‘modern challenges in a fast-paced corporate environment’.”

“I stand by what I said. If I die of blue balls, I’m taking the rest of you with me.”

Tony swiped away another redundant part and snorted. “There’s an easy way to fix that, gorgeous, just come here and put your mouth where your—”

Something squeaked and Tony was certain his boyfriend had _never_ made that sort of noise before, so Tony turned around slowly and—

Oh, sweet, merciful heaven.

There was _fluff_ in Bucky’s arms, a tiny ball of white fluff that yipped again and—oh look, it had tiny black eyes and a tiny little nose too and it looked so small and precious in Bucky’s big palms, cradled protectively against Bucky’s chest and—

_Wait._

“Did—did you get a dog just to win a bet?”

“Not my dog.”

“You _kidnapped_ a dog?”

“Borrowed. Alice, in finance.”

The puppy _meeped_ and wriggled and when Bucky brought it up to his face, it licked his nose with a tiny pink tongue.

“Oh my god, I hate you both.”

Bucky gasped. “Even the puppy?”

“Okay, no, just you.”

“You gotta pet him, Tony, he’s so soft.”

Now it was Tony making that tiny _meep_ sound. This wasn’t fair. His gorgeous boyfriend with a tiny puppy and Tony couldn’t snuggle them both? That had to be illegal, right?

“I know what you’re doing, James Barnes. Using innocent puppies to lure me into temptation. Shame on you.”

“Well, petting a puppy isn’t against the rules, right? JARVIS, care to chime in?”

“Sir may pet the puppy, as long as there is no contact with you, Mr. Barnes.”

Tony was already half way across the room and he was sure he’d never touched anything so carefully, but the little runt was _so_ _small_ and Tony was afraid he’d break him.

HIs fingers brushed over the fluff. “Oh my god, he _is_ soft.” He let the puppy lick his fingers and the feisty little thing began chewing on them, little pinpricks over his skin. “I’m dying, babe, this is so cute. He’s cute. _You’re_ cute. Oh, I _do_ hate you.”

“Really?”

“No. Love you forever and ever, but all I want is to snuggle you both and I _can’t_ —”

“Sure, you can.”

Tony glared at his boyfriend even as he continued to pet the puppy. “I love you and I love puppies, but I also love coffee. And my professional pride. And I want to hold this over Clint’s head for eternity. You could end this too, you know.”

“No, no, no, do you know how insufferable Wilson would be if I lost? Plus, I have plenty of that professional pride myself.”

They both pouted, huffed, and took a step back.

“I, uh, I better take this little guy back, I guess.”

“Yeah, I gotta finish this—R&D review thing.”

Bucky and the puppy both left, but Tony didn’t stop pouting, the R&D hologram taking the brunt of his dejection.

Stupid bet. Stupid Clint. Stupid professional pride.

This needed to end, _now_ , which meant Tony needed to go nuclear.

A loss would be good for Bucky anyways, right? Super serum or not, that much sugar couldn’t be good for anyone. An apple a day would do just fine for a month.

* * *

With the puppy safely delivered back to his owner, Bucky headed back to his and Tony’s apartment. He’d had enough of not being able to touch his boyfriend, so he needed to go all out. Tony would break, Bucky would soothe Tony’s wounded pride with mind-blowing sex, and they could go back to their normal, wonderful lives.

Besides, it’d be good for Tony to cut down on the coffee, right? A nice cup of tea would work just fine for a month.

* * *

The bedroom was empty when Tony came in, but he heard the sound of a running shower and took that as indication he should _not_ be going in there.

Knowing Bucky, he was probably in there with the curtains wide open, standing in the shower in all his nude glory, jerking himself off—

“Mmm, Tony, sweetheart,” Bucky moaned right on cue. It was so obvious he was playing it up too, but Tony still couldn’t stop the thrum of arousal that ran through him. He was so weak for that voice.

“Need you, sweetheart— _ah_ , just get in here already and help me.”

“Nope, sorry, super busy!” Tony shouted and ducked into the closet. He untied his tie with more force than necessary, grinding his teeth into dust from the tension of keeping himself in place. He couldn’t get the mental image of Bucky out of his head though and Bucky’s _moaning_ certainly wasn’t helping.

“No, baby, I need you, need you to make me feel good—”

“You can manage just fine on your own, gorgeous, I’ve seen you do it!” 

The distinct sound of a snort and a muttered “Goddamn it, Tony, stop making me laugh,” had Tony muffling his own snicker.

Thankfully, there were no more moans, so either Bucky gave up on the performance or took Tony’s advice and got himself off to completion— _don’t think about it, Tony, don’t do it, don’t think about the way his lips part on a silent scream when he comes, the way his chest heaves and legs tremble and_ —

Tony scrambled to find his tablet with the merchandising contract. Nothing killed a boner quicker than legalese, right?

He settled on their bed to begin reading and managed through four paragraph before Bucky sauntered in, _dripping_ wet, a thin towel wrapped around his hips, more a pretense than anything, low enough to show off the chiseled _vee_ of his hips, the glistening abs, the dusting of hair of his happy trail, the curve of his—

Tony had never scrambled off a bed and darted out of a room faster in his entire life.

* * *

Bucky was in the kitchen, looking for a post-dinner snack—the joys of an enhanced metabolism, all he did was snack—and the kitchen was one of his favorite places in the Tower, so he didn’t expect to be ambushed _here_ , of all places.

He should’ve expected it though. Of course Tony would retaliate because Tony never gave up, it was one of the things Bucky loved most about him, but he didn’t think it’d be _this_ —

Every ounce of blood went straight to his cock when he saw Tony walk in wearing Bucky’s shirt and _not much else_. The black shirt was too big on him, sliding off one shoulder, too long around the hips—but not long _enough_ because Bucky could see just a hint of pretty red panties peeking out and that just wasn’t _fair_ —

“Hi, gorgeous,” Tony didn’t even bother with subtlety. He planted himself right in front of Bucky and Bucky had to grip the edge of the counter behind him in an attempt to restrain himself, to keep himself from touching—until the counter creaked ominously and Bucky had to let go.

“This is low, Tony, so low.”

“No idea what you mean.”

“Wearing my shirt like that— you know how much I love—”

_No, stay strong, Barnes._

He willed himself to ignore the utter _need_ to draw Tony close, to bury his nose in Tony’s neck and smell Bucky’s scent on him. He wasn’t above admitting he relished the spark of possessiveness that always settled low in his belly whenever Tony wore his clothes.

Tony took another step and moved right into Bucky’s space, mere inches left between them.

“Just forget about this bet, baby. Is it really worth it? I’ve been thinking about you _all_ _day_ , how much I need you, how much I want you to touch me.”

Revenge, this was revenge for the shower and the towel thing earlier—but hell, what did it matter? Tony was _perfect_ like this. The curve of his neck and the swoop of the shoulder, that sliver of red driving Bucky mad with lust. All he wanted was to forget this stupid bet, drop to his knees and get his lips on that perfect bulge wrapped in red.

“That’s right, gorgeous, I’m all the sweet you’ll ever need, aren’t I?”

Bucky nodded, but apparently Tony thought Bucky needed even more convincing; he dragged his hand over his stomach, taking his time to drag the shirt up to reveal those red panties in all their perfect glory.

“You know I’m all yours, Bucky. Only you get to touch me, only you get to wrap those pretty red lips around me, only you get to peel these pretty red things off me and fuck me senseless against the—”

“Tony, are you in here? I need these signed and you weren’t in your office—”

“Oh, thank fucking god,” Bucky wheezed, forced himself to move and bolted straight past a startled, wide-eyed Miss Potts.

* * *

“Aw, come on, Pepper, what the hell?” Tony yelped, pulling his shirt down to cover himself.

Pepper watched Bucky’s hasty retreat with a raised brow, then shrugged and walked over.

“Tony, I’ve seen you naked, please stop acting like an embarrassed schoolboy,” she said, not even bothering to look up for the tablet in her hands. “Now, you said you wanted to go over these before we sent them to Legal and you weren’t in your office—”

“Pepper, I almost had him! Dammit, it was so close too.”

She did look up now, lips thinning into a tight line. “So close to _what_?”

It was obvious she didn’t really care to know, but Tony couldn’t help but spill.

“There’s a bet—between the Avengers and us—about me and Bucky. We’re not allowed to touch each other and the first person to break loses! A month of coffee is on the line, Pep, a damn _month_ —and I almost had him!”

The unimpressed set of her mouth did not budge and if that arch of her brow didn’t scream disappointment, Tony didn’t know what did.

“Wow. You _almost_ got your own boyfriend to touch you. Tha _t is_ impressive. So, this is really what the world’s greatest heroes—our last line of defense against disaster—do in their spare time, huh?”

“Well, yes, but—well, _no_ , but you don’t understand—” Okay, so when Tony said all of that out loud to someone who wasn’t actively goading him on, it did sound ridiculous. Just a little bit. Maybe. “We have stressful jobs, it’s how we cope!”

“Uh-huh, okay. Well, not that I’m judging, you and Bucky and the rest of your super friends are free to do whatever you want, but my job happens to be stressful too, so what’s gonna happen is you’re gonna sit your butt down at that table right there, we’ll go over this report, I’ll be out of your hair, and you can go back to wiggling your butt at your boyfriend and he can go back to not touching it.”

Tony whined, huffed, but did as he was told.

“Wait, can I at least go change? These damn things are riding up, Pep.”

“No,” she declared severely as she slid the tablet over, looking perfectly comfortable in her blouse and jeans. “That, right there, Tony, is your incentive.”

* * *

With his butt chafed, his ego bruised, and his mood ruined, Tony dragged himself to their bedroom, ready for this day to be over.

He found Bucky on their bed, still dressed, hands behind his head, legs in a sprawl, sporting a frown severe enough to kill a man.

Okay, so clearly Tony wasn’t the only one grumpy right now.

“Hey,” he said as he walked in and Bucky turned to look at him. To Tony’s relief, the severity bled away.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you done with Miss Potts?”

“Err, yeah. I’ve, uh, learned a valuable lesson about not leaving reports unread.” Tony walked to the other side of the bed and hovered awkwardly, eyes glued to the bed. “It’s been a long day, we should probably just… turn in.”

Tony trailed off as the realization hit him.

They wouldn’t be able to spend the night together. They wouldn’t be able to lay in bed, Tony’s head on Bucky’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, there wouldn’t be careful fingers stroking through Tony’s hair until he fell asleep, there wouldn’t be a sleepy Bucky in the morning for Tony to kiss good morning…

The genuine, gut-clenching dread that came over Tony was both disorienting and overwhelming.

He looked up when he heard Bucky sigh.

“I’ll go crash with Wilson, I guess,” Bucky muttered and swung his legs off the bed, standing up to hunched shoulders and crossed arms and that unhappy— _heartbroken_ —look on his face, and Tony decided nothing was worth spending a night alone.

Not even coffee.

“Wait, no, hold on!” He dashed around the bed to plant himself in front of Bucky—and if he also placed himself between Bucky and the _door_ , well, that was probably painfully obvious, but Bucky stopped and that was all that mattered.

“We can’t sleep in the same bed, we’re going to—”

“I don’t care,” Tony said. He thought back to the whole day and decided they were both _idiots_. Oh god, did they really listen to Barton and Wilson? The bird boys?

_Oh god._

“I’ll give up the coffee—forever if I have to—but please, don’t go. I don’t want to sleep alone. God knows I can barely handle it when I travel or when you go on missions. I’ll hate myself if we do this to ourselves on purpose.”

Bucky’s face softened straightaway. “Sweetheart, leaving you here alone is the last thing I want to do. I wouldn’t sleep a wink without you. God, it’s only been a day and I _miss_ you already. Feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“I know, I miss you too.”

Tony took a step closer, every bit of him warming back up. It felt like coming back to life. The smile on Bucky’s face pushed back that earlier dread too and replaced it with a more familiar sense of comfort.

“C’mere,” Tony said, reaching out to touch Bucky, but Bucky shook his head to stop him.

“No, doll, you need coffee. Let me. I’ll live without the damn sweets for a month.”

“No, babe, come on, after what you’ve been through, you’re allowed to indulge in anything you want, anytime you want. I’ll just— I dunno, I’ll switch to stupid tea.”

“Now, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you drink _tea_ , darlin’?”

Tony didn’t realize how much he missed that playful, brilliant smile. Teasing each other had been admittedly fun and had it just been about the sex, it would’ve been entertaining to see who broke first (and all that pent-up sexual frustration would’ve been put to such good use afterwards).

“You’d still be a wonderful boyfriend who deserves all the sweet things in life,” he said and they both smiled dopily at each other.

But it wasn’t just about needing to get his hands on that perfect body and taste those full lips and reach down and feel just how hard Tony can get his boyfriend with nothing but words and a pair of red panties.

In the end, it was about the simple intimacy of their relationship.

It was about falling asleep in each other’s arms and waking up to soft kisses. It was about holding Bucky’s hand and listening to him talk on the nights he was willing to talk about his nightmares. It was the brush of cool fingers against Tony’s sweat-soaked brow when he was sick, the careful swipe of anesthetic over a wound, a massage to help ease the strain of stress. It was chaste kisses that were precious on their own merit, even when they didn’t turn into something more heated. It was every point of contact, every casual touch, all these things, big and small, that had become second nature to them, their wordless affirmations of love.

“What about a compromise?” Tony held up his left hand, palm out. “We touch at the same time and JARVIS declares us both losers. How does that saying go? In sickness and in health? And by sickness I, of course, mean my caffeine headaches and your cranky ass watching Barton stuff cupcakes down his throat just to tease you. What do you say?”

“I say that I love you and I promise you I will make Barton _choke_ on those cupcakes. They think they know suffering? Steve and the others see nothing but _me,_ touching _you,_ in every part of the Tower for a full month.”

“I love it.”

Bucky held up his right hand next to Tony’s and on the count of three, they pressed their palms together.

There were no sparks, no fireworks, and even JARVIS didn’t bother to announce their tragic loss; they both snickered, feeling silly over the whole thing, and Tony decided they had wasted enough time. He grabbed Bucky by the lapels of his shirt, drew him in, swallowed that sweet sound of laughter, and coaxed Bucky into a proper kiss, all tongues and teeth and answering moans of pleasure.

Tony wrapped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders to hang on as he mapped out his boyfriend’s delectable mouth, while one perfect metal hand dragged itself down Tony’s back before it landed possessively where it belonged.

“God, I love it when you wear my shirt like this,” Bucky whispered into the kiss, hand roaming over the curve of Tony’s ass, giving it purposeful squeezes. Tony gave Bucky a look full of undeniable intent.

“This all started with that damn, beautiful arm of yours, soldier, so how about you finally put it to good use, hmm?”

Bucky smiled wickedly, licked his lips, and dragged Tony with him as he stumbled back to their bed.

Intimacy between them was priceless of course, but the sex was pretty fantastic too.

* * *

“Well, well, well, they didn’t even last a single day,” Clint crowed when he walked into the kitchen and spotted Tony in Bucky’s lap.

Sam was close on his heels with his own, “Oh wow, this was worse that I predicted. Not even twenty-four hours? This is weak, guys, even for you.”

Tony planted an obnoxious, wet kiss on Bucky’s cheek and grinned. “Yup. I guess we’re just too damn sexy, it was impossible to stay away.”

Clint eyed them both. “Alright, so which one of you was it? Who broke first?”

“J, tell them the score.”

“Sir and Mr. Barnes touched each other simultaneously—and without a high-speed camera footage available to me, I had to declare them both losers.”

Clint and Sam made identical sour faces.

“What? No, that’s super lame,” Clint whined. He gestured at them dismissively and stomped over to the refrigerator. “It figures you two would do something so cheesy. Ugh. I’m offended.”

“Yeah, I’m with Barton on this. Honestly, this is worse than cheating,” Sam said as he went over to open a cupboard and grab a packet of oatmeal for himself.

“That’s right, we’re super cheesy and lame and you’ll just have to live with it.” Tony hummed, took a generous bite of a cupcake on his plate, and turned to Bucky to give him an exaggerated pout. “I’m sorry that you can’t enjoy these with me, gorgeous.”

Bucky shrugged, took a sip of his coffee, and said, “It’s alright, baby doll, all that matters is that you’re right here with me.”

Clint and Sam both stopped and turned their suspicious glares back on them.

“Okay, wait, what are you two up to?”

“Nothing.” Tony met their eyes and popped another piece of cupcake into his mouth. “Mmm, coffee-flavored.”

“Hey!” Clint shouted. “That _is_ cheating!”

“Is it though?” Tony held up the cupcake. “Tell me, am I ‘drinking coffee’?”

“No, but—”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” He shoved the rest of the cupcake into his mouth and grinned around it.

Clint threw his hands up with a defeated noise, turned back to his cereal, and muttered expletives as he poured it with unnecessary violence. 

Sam still watched them. “And what are _you_ drinking, Barnes?”

“Coffee.”

“What kind of coffee?”

“The kind that minds its own business.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t interrogate them further, at least not until he reached for the sugar bowl to pour a spoonful into his oatmeal and shouted, “Hey, where the hell did all the sugar go?”

Bucky took another triumphant sip of his _sweet_ , _sweet_ coffee, Tony savored his cupcake, and they traded coffee-flavored, sweet kisses, all to the sound of their teammates making their usual, indignant fuss.

In the end, some loses were worth it.


End file.
